Knowing his cock has got to be rock-hard under the water.

“Truth or dare,” he bites out.

“Truth,” I reply, not sure I can handle another dare or where it might take us.

His brows furrow and his eyes narrow on mine. “What are you thinking right now?”

“That I like sitting here with your eyes on me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, running a wet hand over his face and through his dark hair before tossing his head back and polishing off the dregs of the bourbon.

“What are you thinking?” I push. Wanting to know. Wanting to hear him say he likes what he sees.

“I didn’t pick truth, Willa.”

I bite my lip, regarding him. Wondering if I’m going way too far right now and wondering if it matters. Watching him struggle to hold himself back, watching him put himself through hell to keep things appropriate.

“Truth or dare?” My voice is full of undisguised desire. I’ve used this voice before to get what I want. It’s worked for me with other men. But never has it resulted in the expression of distressed pleading on Cade’s face when he glances up at me and says, “Dare.”

His expression doesn’t say crawl onto my lap and ride me. It says help me.

And so that’s what I do. But probably not in the way he saw coming.

“I dare you to do those rodeos and let me take care of Luke while you do.”

The look he gives me back is dark and fathomless. It’s confused and thankful all at once. Disappointed and relieved in the same beat.

When I hear his low, “Okay,” I smile softly at him and swing my legs out of the water onto the deck, not oblivious to the way he’s blatantly watching my every move now. I feel momentarily self-conscious, like he might see something he doesn’t like.

But I shake the thought away. The lighting is dim, and it doesn’t matter if he sees the dimples on my ass anyway.

Away from the steam of the hot water and the buzz of the bourbon, things look a whole lot clearer. And what Cade Eaton thinks of my body is of little importance.

I wrap a towel around myself, turning only when I hit the back door. “Good night, Cade.” He drops his head back and stares at the blanket of stars. “Thanks for . . . the game.”

He doesn’t turn to look at me when he rasps, “Goodnight, Red.”

12

Cade

Cade: Fine. I’ll do it.

Lance: Yeah?

Cade: Yeah.

Lance: Fuck yeah, buddy. Let’s do this!

Cade: But I want to win. No mediocre shit. I don’t want to waste my weekends losing.

Lance: Deal. You need to borrow a horse?

Cade: No. Mine knows her job better than any of your shiny show ponies.

Lance: LOL. Kinda forgot what a dick you are.

* * *